


White Teeth Teens

by papple



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Bullying, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papple/pseuds/papple
Summary: A bruised and battered Peter and a hopelessly failing Wade might have both gotten more than they bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the Spideypool big bang hosted by [this lovely blog](http://spideypoolfanfic.tumblr.com/)  
> [Check out the art for this chapter drawn by the amazing Momiya](http://kuragesparkle.tumblr.com/post/175946823107/hello-hello-hello-this-is-my-part-of-the-big-bang)!

“Psst.”

_Just ignore it._

“Hey. Parker.”

_Just. Ignore. It._

“Parker. Hey, Par-”

Peter turned around in his seat, immediately regretting the action and fought back the urge to turn back around. Now face to face with perhaps the worst _things_ to ever grace the halls of Midtown, Peter anticipated for whatever will come out of the bastard’s mouth next.

“So, heard you gave good head,” Flash said finally with a toothy grin, “I wanna know if you’re better than my girlfriend. Fourth floor bathroom during last period?”

That comment earned some snickers from Flash’s lackeys. Not hiding his eye roll, Peter swiftly turned back around in his seat. His ears felt hot, eyes darting around to see if anyone else heard that comment. His eyes jumped to the clock on the right wall, the big hand seeming so terribly far from the twelve.

All the other students around Peter remain glued to the front of the class, listening intently to Mr. Stark’s rambling. Some had their heads burrowed within their arms, sound asleep since the beginning of the period. So far no one has tried to hide their giggles with their hand, or even worse, given Peter a sympathetic look.

“Aw, c’mon Parker,” Flash said with mock disappointment, “is that a no?”

This started another wave of laughs from Flash’s friends, this time catching Mr. Stark’s attention. The teacher gazed at Peter’s direction with a single eyebrow arched, eyes finding it’s target at the group of boy seated behind Peter. The laughter ceased into an awkward silence, however the smile was not completely wiped off their faces. The other students, feeling the awkwardness riding in the air, made Peter more uncomfortable than before.

“Boys,” Mr. Stark said drily, “I know your life goals are flippin’ burgers and cleaning shit out of toilets, but- spoiler alert, there’s some people here who want to do _well_ on their final. So put a sock in it, okay?”

Although the students were familiar with Mr. Stark’s unadulterated bluntness by now, his scolding still managed to squeeze out some snickers across the class, even from Peter.

As Mr. Stark faced back to the board, raising the dry erase marker to finish writing out an unfinished chemical equation, Flash leaned in closer to Peter, Peter shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he felt the unwanted presence.

“That was funny to you, Parker?” Flash sneered, “Be careful, don’t be fucking stupid.”

Peter gulped as Flash eased back into his chair. Peter hunched forward into his arms, which were folded atop his desk. Trying to shake Flash’s jeers and his friend’s laughs from his mind, Peter tried to pay attention to the lesson being taught. Equilibriums… Le Chatelier’s principle… All things Peter was quite familiar with already.

His mind wandered off, anticipating the moment the clock will hit three o’clock and the bell will sound. It was a particularly beautiful day in Queens today, not that most June days in Queens were not beautiful. However, this day is to be spent in the confines of his room, amongst strewn loose leaf paper and opened textbooks. With final examinations approaching, Peter has not been doing anything else other than study, much to Aunt May’s dismay. Many times has she suggested Peter to ask Ned to hang out, just to get some fresh air- but it was as if she was talking to a wall. Peter Parker in note-revising mode might as well be a brick wall.

In the back of Peter’s mind, he knows he might as well listen to Aunt May, but his room gives a sense of relief at the end of each day. Away from the buzz of a school day, away from the neverending droning of lessons. As soon as the backpack leaves his shoulders, Peter sees no reason to leave.

Glancing back at the clock, the big hand showed less than five minutes until dismissal. Peter’s foot shook in anticipation, picturing stretching out on his bed, stuffing some snacks down his throat at the same time.

_Brrrrrring!_

The bell cut off Mr. Stark’s sentence, sighing in defeat as he knew there was no way to stop the students from leaving. Chairs scraped against the floor as students stood up, the sound of zippers all around Peter as they stuffed their binders in their backpacks. Peter moved to do the same, silently giving himself a pat on the back as it is finally the end of the day.

Before he could stand up, Flash swiped his books on the floor, swift enough as to not cause any attention to himself. Peter looked up at Flash with annoyance in his eyes, eyeing him as he speedily left the door.

His friends quickly followed, all of them tall and obnoxious, wearing smirks on their faces as they glanced at Peter on their way out.

Peter tried not to make eye contact with any of them, but accidentally made the mistake with the last lackey on his way out. The other boy did not look away, his hazel eyes looking down at Peter. Unlike the rest of them, he was not smiling.

Somehow, Peter could not tear his eyes away. Perhaps he was terrified of his scar, cutting through his eyebrow. Peter realized just how dumb he probably looked at that moment, the awkwardness surmounting within him, feeling like he might combust in his seat.

The other boy finally looked away, giving Peter a sense of relief. He did not notice until now that he was one of the last people left in the class, with his books still strewn on the floor.

The feeling of being the last person to be waited on set in Peter’s stomach, looking up apologetically at Mr. Stark, who looked more than ready to leave. Leaving his chair to bend down to collect his books, Peter wished his limbs would move faster.

A pair of stained white Converse and two bare legs appeared before his gaze, which bent down to Peter’s height. Peter looked up from the floor to see a mass of messy, curly hair. The girl was gathering Peter’s books as well, stacking them at twice the speed he was doing.

Recovering from the initial surprise of seeing someone else help, Peter reached for his backpack and fumbled to put the books he gathered inside. The girl stuck out her stack of books towards him, looking up at him, her almond eyes inviting him to take it.

Awkwardly taking the stack from her hands, Peter stuffed it hastily in his bag. Standing up to his full height and slinging his backpack over one shoulder, the girl did the same, smoothing down her corduroy skirt.

“Uh, it’s Michelle, right?” Peter mumbled, recalling the moments when she’d raise her hand whenever the name Michelle was announced during attendance, “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, it is, but you can just call me MJ,” MJ said, “and don’t sweat it, dude. I’d do anything to kick Flash in the face to be honest.”

Peter’s face felt hot and lowered his gaze after realizing that she had known it was Flash who threw Peter’s books on the floor. MJ noticed this, and immediately began to add on to her comment.

“Look, man, he’s just an asshole,” MJ stated, “Dunno how the hell he has any friends to begin with, he probably treats ‘em like shit too. He’s actual trash, don’t let him bother you that much.”

Peter gave a small nod. As if he hasn’t tried that already.

“Good,” MJ said, “some people are just brain dead, y’know? Anyways, I gotta head home now. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

As MJ turned to leave the classroom , Peter noticed that he was the last student remaining in the class. Realizing that Mr. Stark was probably reaching the limits of his patience, Peter hurriedly walked towards the door, giving Mr. Stark an attempt at a smile, which he was sure turned into just another one of his signature awkward smiles. Mr. Stark did not seem phased at all, returning the gesture with a full on grin, no annoyance detected on his face at all.

Peter squeezed through the sea of people, all heading towards the main entrance. Peter made an effort in quickly getting out of the building, trying his hardest not to push people too harshly, receiving judgemental glares from others around him as he tried to maneuver his way out.

Finally reaching the front doors, which were constantly opened by the bodies pushing past it to go outside, Peter could not be more glad to exit. As the fresh air hit his face, Peter’s heart skipped a beat. Finally- he can go home.

Queens in the afternoon could be uncomfortably hot, as it is the case today. Not long into his walk home, Peter could feel sweat sticking to the back of his shirt. He regretted not checking the weather earlier that morning, as he regarded many pedestrians with tank tops and shorts, sunglasses sitting atop their noses.

Aunt May’s apartment was not terribly far from Midtown High School, being only a ten minute walk. Peter tried to walk under the shade when possible, to give his pale, un-sunscreened skin some sanction. 

Seeing Delmar’s in the distance, Peter decided to stop there for a quick drink, hoping he did not forget his wallet today, although he is sure Mr. Delmar does not mind giving him a glass of tap water if so.

Reaching the corner store’s front steps, Peter pushed the door open, a jingle of a bell announcing his entrance.

“Ah! Peter, welcome!” Mr. Delmar greeted cheerily as he saw the teen enter his shop.

“Hello, sir.” Peter said back, giving Mr. Delmar a polite wave as he made his way to the Slurpee machines.

“Ah, it’s so hot today, no?” Mr. Delmar said, “Oh, the cherry one is out of order. Sorry kid, I know that’s your favourite.”

Feeling a tiny bit of disappointment at the sight of the ‘OUT OF ORDER” sign on the machine that used to contain cherry flavoured Slurpee, Peter settled for blue raspberry, taking a cup from the stack and pouring himself the blue drink.

“Say, Fernando!” Mr. Delmar called out to his employee, “ _¿Por qué no está arreglado?_ ”

Fernando replied in Spanish as well, defending himself as to why the machine is still not fixed. Putting the cap on his now filled cup and taking a straw, Peter made his way to the checkout. Placing it atop the counter, Peter stood there awkwardly, waiting for Mr. Delmar and Fernando’s quarrel to cease.

“Mr. Delmar, please,” Peter said, feeling slightly embarrassed for interrupting, “ _No es su culpa_.”

Mr. Delmar turned around, raising an eyebrow at Peter, before giving a small smile and punching in some numbers into the cash register.

“Very well, I’ll listen to you, Peter,” Mr. Delmar said, “that’ll be one ninety-nine.”

“You know, kid,” Fernando said from the back of the store, “your Spanish is not bad- for a _gringo_.”

That earned a hearty laugh from Mr. Delmar and Fernando, and Peter couldn’t help but smile too. Handing the money to Mr. Delmar, Peter grabbed his drink and left. Taking out the straw and throwing away the wrapper, Peter said a quick _gracias_ before pushing through the doors.

The instant change from air conditioning to the sweltering heat was not comfortable, prompting Peter to take a large sip from his drink, the crushed ice feeling good as it melted on his tongue. Despite the unbearable heat, Peter knew he didn’t have much longer to walk before arriving at his apartment complex.

Stopping at a crosswalk, Peter waited impatiently for the light to turn green. He started to feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, and wished more desperately to be within the gloriously air conditioned confines of his apartment.

It took a few more sips before the light turned green, signalling Peter and all the others around him to cross the street. As he walked across, Peter secretly tried to step on the white stripes each time, despite knowing how fruitless the effort it is. 

Stepping onto the new block, Peter knew it wasn’t long before he reached his street. He really wished the elevator was fixed by now, he can’t imagine he could walk up eight flights of stairs now.

“Hey, Parker- that you?” A voice asked from his side.

An overwhelming sense of dread rushed down Peter. He knew that voice from anywhere, it wasn’t long ago when he last heard that appalling sneer. He didn’t stop walking, instead choosing to walk past Flash and his group, keeping his head down in hopes that perhaps Flash will believe he mistook him for someone else. As Peter whizzed past them, a strong scent of smoke hit his nose. The perfume of cigarettes disgusted Peter, scrunching his nose in retaliation.

“Oi- you deaf or something?” Flash shouted out, “Parker, I’m talking to ya. That’s him right?”

Peter heard a couple of sounds in agreement behind him, his heart quickening in pace. Peter knew he was definitely being followed now, stuffing his hands in his jean pocket and trying to quicken his pace. His feet were in protest, but his mind did not care. He needed to get home.

Or perhaps home was a bad idea? Peter suddenly had the frightening thought of Flash and his friends knowing his address. Their antics could be amplified just by knowing where he lived, and Peter doesn’t think he can stand to stay in Queens if that happens.

Peter allowed himself one quick glance back. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, he saw Flash sauntering towards him. On his sides were three of his friends, the two on the right of which he knew very well. Sharing classes since elementary school, Francis and Eddie turned out to be worse than the days when stealing cosmic brownies from Peter’s lunch was a treasonous crime.

The one on the left scares Peter the most. It was the teen with a scar running through his eyebrow, the one that left an unsettling feeling in Peter’s stomach after class. He was taller than the rest of them, undoubtedly broader too. Peter was sure the width of his arms was just about the size of his own head. He hadn’t seen him before, then again it was still Peter’s first year at Midtown. That being said, he has seen most of the students before since he has been living in Queens his entire life.

Knowing he is almost home, Peter hastily decided to not turn towards his apartment building, not wanting them to know where he lived. More importantly, he didn’t want Aunt May to know anything about Flash. For all she knew, he was still Eugene from elementary school.

Peter turned the opposite direction, leading into an alleyway smelling suspiciously of urine. Although shrouded from the sun now, Peter felt a different kind of sweat break out on his skin. Noticing a wall at the end of the alley littered with graffiti, Peter realized he was trapped.

He stopped in his tracks and frantically looked around. He saw what he expected to see; two brick walls. Upon hearing a few chuckles behind him, Peter knew he was expediently screwed. He wished he could somehow climb those damn walls.

“Tsk, you know it’s really rude to ignore people who are trying to talk to you,” Flash tisked, “I think an apology is needed now, Parker.”

Peter remained frozen in place, suddenly realizing just how deep his breathing has become. He can’t turn around, every cell in his body screaming at him to not look back. His grip on his Slurpee cup tightened, fingers digging into the material.

“Jesus, Parker,” Flash jabbed, “you should also look at the person who’s talking to you too.”

Peter’s heart felt like a bomb close to detonation in his chest, his cup now close to crushed in his grip. Eyes jumping around, all he saw was vandalized walls and cigarette butts on the ground.

“Alright boys,” Flash declared, “I think we should give Parker a lesson on manners.”

Peter can hear Francis and Eddie’s chuckles behind him. That was threatening enough for Peter to turn on his heel and face his harassers. He turned around too late, Flash was already advancing towards him. Peter’s first instinct was to back away, his legs suddenly feeling like lead. Flash had a smug look plastered on his face as he reached out, grabbing Peters by the sides of his arms before throwing him on the ground, his cup flying from his hand.

“Oof!” Peter cried.

Peter lost his footing and fell backwards, although his backpack saved his back from some of the impact, his tailbone still hurt. Before Peter could have a chance to push himself back up, Flash kicked Peter on his side.

Peter cried out, already thinking a bruise was already forming. He could hear Francis and Eddie’s howls getting louder as they advanced. Flash kicked him again, and the pain doubled.

“This is what faggots get, Parker!” Francis shouted as he joined in, kicking Peter on his other side.

Peter cried out louder than before. He could feel his eyes starting to sting, but willed himself not to cry. He would not allow them the satisfaction. He tried to roll over and crawl away, only for another foot to kick him back down.

“Alright, I think that’s enough.” A voice said from behind Peter.

Peter realized it belonged the boy who he did not know. He also realized that he had not joined in on beating him.

“Wha- why are you defending this fag, Wilson?” Eddie queried. 

“I mean, c’mon,” the other boy said, “he’s a fucking twig. You kick him again and he’ll probably burst a lung or somethin’”

“That’s no reason to stop.” Flash stated.

He kicked him again, this time in the side of his face. Peter could taste the metallic taste of blood form in his mouth, a bad mixture with the blue raspberry taste that still lingered in his mouth. His tongue ran over the cut in his mouth, grimacing in pain as he did so. He squeezed his eyes shut as they threatened to spill tears, praying for this to end.

“Seriously, Eugene, I think that’s en-” the other boy started to say.

“Excuse me? What the fuck, Wilson,” Flash interrupted, his voice rising, “you might be new here, but lemme make this clear. _Never call me Eugene_. Ever again. O-”

“Hey!” A voice called out from far away, this time a female voice, “Let him go!”

Peter heard running, catching his breath as the kicking stopped for a moment as his abusers focused their attention at the little woman running towards them. Peter heard chuckles exchanged between the two, but stopped before he heard a noise of pain coming out one of the boys.

Peter opened his eyes and saw Francis doubled over, hand rubbing the side of his face, which was red. He looked over at who caused it, and saw MJ from chemistry class- only this time she wore a snarling look on her face.

Before Francis could do anything, MJ punched him in the gut with an alarming amount of force, causing Francis to fall to his knees. Before any of the other two boys can react, MJ was already on Eddie, pushing him against a wall and bringing her knee up to his groin, causing Eddie to make a noise that was three octaves higher than his normal voice.

She turned towards Flash, her brown eyes on fire. She slung her backpack from her shoulders and swung, hitting Flash in the head. Flash doubled over, moving away from Peter. Before Flash could retaliate, MJ already reached into her bag, retrieving a canister. Pointing it towards Flash, who was glaring at her, she pressed down.

The spray hit Flash’s eyes, making him scream out in pain. His hands moved to cover his eyes, but was too afraid to rub them. Flash kept spewing out profanities while Francis and Eddie were still groaning from their beatings.

MJ spit on the ground, stuffing the pepper spray back in her bag before turning towards Peter. Her eyes softened, reaching out her hand. Peter slowly reached out towards her. MJ grabbed his hand immediately, her grip stronger than his by tenfold. MJ glared at Wilson, who only stood leaning against a wall. Wilson looked at MJ neutrally, letting her know that he means no harm.

When Peter stood face to face with her, he could see the strands of curly hair tumbling down her face. She moved to slick them back, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Peter. She lead Peter out of the alleyway, the sunlight making Peter’s eyes uncomfortable.

“Where do you live?” MJ asked. Peter pointed a shaking finger forwards at the apartment building across the street.

“Okay, let’s get you h-”

MJ stopped her sentence as she heard sniffs. She looked at Peter, hand reaching up for his shoulder as she saw him try desperately not to burst into tears.

Peter couldn’t help it. It wasn’t the pain that was causing the tears. It was the embarrassment. How easy he let them get to him. He was so stupid. His sniffs become louder as he choked back the tears. It was getting too much.

MJ pulled him close, letting his face burrow into her shoulder as he began to sob.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the [art for this chapter](http://kuragesparkle.tumblr.com/image/177217212857) by one of the coolest people to ever work with, [Momiya](http://kuragesparkle.tumblr.com/)!

Wade couldn’t sleep.

The nights seemed to become hotter as each night passed. Even with the window opened as far as it can go, Wade still felt as if he was in a sauna. The city nightlife didn’t help Wade’s insomnia either. With cars honking and people laughing constantly, Wade wondered how anyone in the damn city got any sleep.

He laid with his limbs stretched out atop his sheets, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. It was too warm to wear a shirt, and Wade debated many times to ditch his boxers too. His mind would not settle down either, it was just as noisy as the streets outside.

Wade replayed certain fragments of the day in his head. It wasn’t anything particularly distinct from the day before, or the day before that. Midtown was just like any other school, except it was bigger, and the student body was larger than Wade’s previous school. Other than that, it was just a school, regardless if it was in the so-called “greatest city in the world”.

Wade gruffed in discomfort, feeling overly tired but still unable to fall asleep. His mouth has also felt incredibly dry for the past hour, but he was simply too lazy to get up and retrieve a glass of water. Finally unable to stand his thirst, Wade forced himself to sit up. Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, he stood up and opened his door, as quiet as he could as to not awaken his aunt. 

His aunt was as nice as aunts can get. At first, he felt like a stranger in her home, and he can bet she felt the same towards him. But after almost a year of living together, it’s safe to say their relationship is rock solid. It took a while getting used to seeing her face everyday, though. She looked just like his mother.

Around a year ago, Wade was on the fence about moving. When he heard the news that he had to move out of the country, he was unphased- or at least he tried to be. He hated to admit it, but it was slightly terrifying to leave everything behind in Canada and then live in _New York_. He had only visited the United States once before, to visit his mother’s family, and that was long before he grew to be over six feet and started to shave.

Hardest part of Wade’s last summer in Canada was breaking up with Vanessa. Not because he couldn’t live without her, but because he hated to hurt her. Despite what everyone thinks, Wade dislikes hurting others the most. Every fight he gets in is with good reason, and the crowd he used to hang around… Well, Wade wasn’t particularly proud of that.

He hoped Queens would provide a new slate for him. He wanted to start fresh; befriend some people who didn’t constantly skip classes and stink of cigarette smoke. However, Wade had his hopes up too high. He wasn’t surprised when he found himself involved with the same crowd again. What was he expecting? That the preps would allow someone with a massive scar running down their eyebrow into their group?

He tiptoed into the kitchen, trying to not hit anything in the dark. Opening the cupboard as gently as he could, he snatched a random glass. He turned on the tap as little as possible, hoping the small stream of water was not overly loud.

As he waited for his glass to fill, another memory slipped into his mind.

The day after the incident, Peter arrived to class in a hoodie pulled over his head, looking more solemn that usual. The sight of him submerged Wade in guilt, he couldn’t help but sneak stares towards him throughout that day. Sometimes Peter would touch his sides, subtly cringing in pain. Peter clearly seemed uncomfortable sitting there, but then again no one would be willing to switch seats near the end of the year. Wade doesn’t blame them, who in their right mind would want to sit in front of Flash anyways?

Wade hated Flash with a passion. He hates his ridiculously gelled hair. He hates his overly massive ego. He hates how he calls himself Flash.

Most importantly, he hates how much he picks on Peter. Throughout the entire year, Wade felt that as if his insults towards Peter were overly unnecessary, but that day in the alleyway was too much. That day, Wade realized Flash truly had absolutely no regard for others. When Wade fought, it was always with someone who he knew could pack a punch, and didn’t look like they weighed below one hundred pounds. Wade often thought of what would’ve happened if Michelle hadn’t come and saved Peter. Would have he stepped in? 

Flash had given Wade a hard time after that day for not helping them. Wade’s excuse was that he couldn’t possibly fight a girl who was half his size, although deep down he wasn’t sure if he could win in a fight with her. She threw some good punches.

Realizing that water was now spilling over the rim of his glass, Wade twisted the tap off and sauntered back into his room, quietly shutting the door. He took a sip, the coolness of the water giving him some relief from the heat.

As he laid back down, he suddenly felt more tired than before. Closing his eyes, his thoughts dissipated into muddles.

 

~

 

Wade was fighting to stay awake the next day during third period, anticipating the bell to ring for lunch so he can replenish his energy.

Mr. Stark was now reviewing the second unit of the course, which made no difference to Wade, he barely noticed that the first unit was finished being reviewed. Wade had never been the school-smart type, but he can safely say he has more going on in his brain than Francis and Eddie.

Wade doesn’t overly enjoy Francis and Eddie’s presence either, although they were slightly more bearable than Flash. They seemed to just repeat any action or speech that Flash does- if Flash ever decided to jump off a cliff, they would probably follow suit. Francis had arrived the day after the alleyway incident with a massive bruise on the side of his face, trying to cover it up with his hood and glaring daggers at Michelle. After Michelle’s vicious knee to Eddie’s groin, he claimed that he doesn’t think he can ever have babies now.

The difference between Francis and Eddie compared to Flash is that they both seemed to forget they got a beating from Michelle a couple days after the incident. Flash, however, seemed to not be able to let it go. With that being said, Wade believes Francis and Eddie are both twice the man Flash will ever be.

Wade was almost falling asleep on his desk, when a peculiar thought poked in his mind. When Peter walked into class at the beginning of the period, he looked directly at Wade’s direction.  
It was intentional- Wade can tell, as if Peter wanted to tell him something, but was debating on doing so.

_Brrrrrring!_

Wade shot up, straightening his back at the sound of the bell. Relief rushed over him as his stomach leaped with joy at the thought of food. Pushing back his chair to stand up, Wade hastily stuffed his books inside his backpack before following the line of students walking out the door.

“Oh, Wilson, come here for a second!” Mr. Stark called out.

Wade stopped in his tracks, stepping aside to let the other students pass him. He tried his hardest not to roll his eyes while he walked towards Mr. Stark’s desk- he just wanted some damn lunch.

“Oh, don’t worry son, you’re not in trouble,” Mr. Stark huffed, leaning back in his chair, “Or maybe you are, I dunno.”

Wade arched an eyebrow at him.

“You realize finals are in two weeks, right?” Mr. Stark said bluntly.

Wade nodded, stomach still yearning for food.

“You also realize it’s worth fifty percent of your final grade, right?” Mr. Stark asked again.

Wade nodded once more, starting to feel annoyance creep up inside him.

“Then I’m assuming you also know that two weeks is a short amount of time to make sure you don’t walk into that examination room and blank out the moment you see the cover page of the exam.” Mr. Stark said snarkily.

Wade bit back his tongue to say something, shocked at his teacher’s stab at his grades. Wade got used to Mr. Stark’s demeanour early into the year; amused because he has never had a teacher quite like him. However, sometimes he still says things that still manage to widen Wade’s eyes.

“Okay, so you’re still _passing_ , so to speak,” Mr. Stark said, “but you won’t be after the exam. Now I wouldn’t say that to any of the other guys because… well it might hurt their ego too much- boohoo. But you’re a real man, Wade. I think you know you’re royally screwed.”

Wade hasn’t said a word since Mr. Stark started speaking, but he figured it was time to shoot something back.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” Wade scoffed, putting as much sarcasm in his question as possible.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” Mr. Stark said, matching Wade’s tone, “Lucky for you, I have an idea. I have the perfect tutor for you.”

“A tutor?” Wade said, immediately disliking the idea, “No thanks.”

“Your grades will thank you if you change your mind.” Mr. Stark said, “Plus, it’s free.”

_A free tutor, huh?_ Wade thought, _Why would you ever tutor for free?_

“I already talked to him, he agreed to tutor,” Mr. Stark said, “it’d be a missed opportunity, Wade. He’s very good.”

“Who even is he?” Wade said, ready to decline again regardless of whoever Mr. Stark answers with.

“Peter Parker.”

For a rare moment in his life, Wade did not know what to say.

Mr. Stark, noticing Wade’s hesitation, continued his offer. “He has the highest mark in the class, despite his age.”

_His age?_ Wade thought, now more curious.

“Think about it,” Mr. Stark said, “having a genius tutor you for _free_. I think you can even get above an eighty on this with his help if you really, really tried.”

“How old is he?” Wade asked.

“He’s in freshman year, but to be honest, I still dunno why he hasn’t graduated and got a PhD yet or somethin’, that kid is insanely smart,” Mr. Stark replied, “he asked to take grade twelve chemistry this year. Damn, he’s gonna get so many free periods when he gets to your age, Wade.”

Something upset Wade’s stomach now, and it was not just hunger. Guilt seeped through Wade’s mind, feeling worse than before. 

_They beat up a freshman,_ Wade thought, _and I stood and watched_.

“I’ll think about it.” Wade said impassively, not waiting for his teacher to say anything and walked through the door.

The rest of the day carried out the same, and once again- Wade couldn’t sleep that night.

 

~

 

“Wilson.”

Wade felt like death the next day. Ever since he set his tray down on the table, the right side of his face has been digging into the palm of his hand as his consciousness slipped through like sand in an hourglass.

“Wilson!”

Wade lifted his head from his hand, eyes slightly opening, lazily focusing on Flash’s face. Reminded of where he was, Wade felt even more remorse for bothering to go to school. He threw on the same hoodie as the day before, and did not even bother to take a shower.

“Jesus, you look terrible.” Flash remarked midway through chewing.

“Yeah. Thanks, as if I didn’t know already.” Wade said flatly, “What is it?”

“Just wanted your opinion,” Flash said, “should I break up with Gwen?”

“Uh, why?” Wade asked, “Didn’t think you two were fighting or anything.”

To be frank, Flash rarely talked about his girlfriend. All Wade knew was that she was a pretty blond cheerleader who was in junior year. From what Wade could tell, she seemed modest. He can’t begin to fathom how she settled for Flash.

“Dunno, just don’t think I want to continue it, ya know,” Flash said, “it’s like, she expects me to do all this shit but goddamn- I’m only one fuckin’ person.”

_Oh Flash, you definitely fucked up somehow,_ Wade thought.

“She can be a real controlling bitch sometimes, but not as much a bitch as her.” Flash said, directing his gaze past Wade’s shoulder.

Wade needn’t turn his head to look at the girl Flash was talking about, but he did so anyways. Michelle had her back turned towards them, a mass of curly black hair spilling down her back. Ever since the incident, she had started sitting with Peter and his chubby friend during lunch.

Wade’s eyes moved past Michelle to look at Peter. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt with some sort of science joke on the front, one hand holding a juice box as he listened to what Michelle was saying

Something lit up inside Wade when he saw Peter laugh in reply to whatever Michelle had said. Wade had always noticed that there was something fascinating about seeing someone far away laugh without being able to hear the laughter; but with Peter, it was more than that. There was something about the way his lips draw up, showing the dimples of his baby face and revealing his perfectly straight teeth.

_He definitely had braces._ Wade thought.

“Don’t think anyone can be a bigger bitch than her.” Francis agreed.

“Bet she’s a dyke, too.” Eddie added.

Wade internally rolled his eyes at the immaturity. Wade had learned to spend lunchtimes hearing their comments through one ear and letting it pass through the other. Some comments, however, were slightly harder to let pass.

“Well,” Wade said, changing the subject, “I think you should talk to her. Like, seriously. Better to sort out troubles that way.”

“Sometimes it freaks me out how wise you can sound,” Flash said, shaking his head, “don’t think you’ve ever given relationship advice before, though.”

Wade had never bothered telling them about Vanessa, and didn’t plan on doing so any time soon. Besides, “soon” only meant the next two weeks that remained of school- Wade planned on forgetting of their existence as soon as he gets his diploma and boots out of the place.

Thinking about his hypothetical high school diploma reminded Wade of the little problem that kept him up all night and occupied his mind all morning; the problem being Peter as his potential tutor. He zoned himself out of Flash’s conversation with the other two boys, and stared past Flash’s shoulder. He felt like a coward, which Wade hates feeling the most. Moving to America was an easier decision than _this_ , and with that being said, moving to another country should be more difficult than deciding whether or not Wade should let Peter tutor him.

Maybe it was better to find someone else as a tutor. Wade was sure his aunt wouldn’t mind spending a bit of money on a tutor, especially since he really needs the extra help. With a stranger as a tutor, Wade wouldn’t have any past complications with them. The incident in the alleyway was still raw in Wade’s mind- no doubt in Peter’s mind too.

What was he so unsure of? Wade kept reminding himself that, like Mr. Stark had said, it would be good for his grades. With his chemistry average swimming in the sixties, Wade could truly benefit from Peter- if he was as intelligent as Mr. Stark made him out to be.

_Brrrrrring!_

The bell pulled Wade from his thoughts, the sound of hundreds of other students getting up in the cafeteria prompting him to do the same. Wade grabbed his tray and dumped the contents in the garbage at the end of his table, tapping it on the side of the garbage can for good measure, proceeding to place it atop a pile.

“Eddie,” Wade said before Eddie walked past him, “I’ll be in English soon, just gotta do somethin’ first. Make sure no one takes my spot.”

Wade wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he was pretty sure his legs were just making the decision themselves. He spotted Peter’s back in the crowd of students leaving the cafeteria, slightly in front of Wade. Before Peter could slip through the door, Wade made sure to get his attention.

“Parker.”

When Wade said Peter’s last name, it was as if he froze Peter in place. The rest of the students simply moved past Wade, Peter, and Peter’s friends, who also stopped in their tracks.

“What do you want?” Michelle quipped, being the first one to break the silence.

“Hey, hey, chillax.” Wade said, “Not lookin’ for any trouble. Just wanted to talk.”

“Oh yeah? Then talk.” Michelle said, tone darkening to a threat.

“No, MJ, it’s okay. He just wants to talk about schoolwork.” Peter said softly, “I’ll be okay.”

“Bullshit.” Michelle shot, grabbing Peter’s arm, showing Wade that she did not plan on leaving, “as if I’m stupid enough to leave you alone with _him_.”

Michelle’s eyes were staring down Wade, while Peter’s lighter eyes were switching between him and his friend with uncertainty.

“We’re going now,” Michelle declared, whipping around and yanking Peter along with his arm, “C’mon Ned, let’s go.”

Peter’s other friend turned around to leave as well- meanwhile, Peter was trying his hardest to remain planted. Michelle shot back a glare at Peter, annoyed at his attempt to stand there, but not willing to let him be. It was hard to not grin at the sight of Peter trying to not stumble on his feet.

“What the hell, Peter?” Michelle exasperated, “C’mon, you’re gonna be late for class, don’t be stupid.”

“Seriously, MJ,” Peter protested, hand grabbing Michelle’s wrist and forcing her to let go of his arm, “Just gimme like two minutes. I’ll be okay.”

Michelle opened her mouth, only to snap it back shut. She shot a final glare at Wade, furrowing her eyebrows and making sure to send a very clear message with her gaze.

_I will fuck you up so bad if you try anything_ , her eyes seemed to threaten.

Reluctantly turning around, Michelle left with Ned. Now the only students left in the cafeteria, the only noise that remained was the humming of the vending machine. Peter was looking anywhere _but_ at Wade, his hands fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt. Tilting his head to the side as he regarded Peter, Wade was wondering what Peter was thinking at this exact moment.

“So, uh,” Peter mumbled, “where do you live?”

Wade couldn’t help but give out a snort, “Ha, you could at least buy me dinner first.”

Wade immediately regretted his jest as he saw Peter stiffen more than before. At this point Wade was scared that Peter was exuding so much uncomfortability that the lunch ladies could sense it. 

“Sorry, I didn’t me-” Wade started.

“No I just-” Peter interrupted, but stopped as he realized he cut off what Wade was about to say.

Once again, silence settled between the two and Peter looked more than ready to melt into a puddle. Wade wondered if he should be silently freaking out as well, but he only felt curiously at ease.

“I just said that, ‘cause, like, I mean, it’s a good place to study, maybe.” Peter rambled out in one breath, eyes still trying to avoid Wade.

_This kid is cute,_ a part of Wade’s mind thought, the corners of his lips starting to twitch.

“I mean, like, only if you want to, of course,” Peter quickly added on, “I wouldn’t just, you know, go into your house if you- if you didn’t want me to.”

_So cute._ , Wade thought, his mouth forming a small smile.

“Starbucks. Tomorrow after school.” Wade stated plainly with a massive grin, before Peter could continue his ramble.

Peter’s eyes snapped up to meet Wade’s. Once again, Wade could not help but stare back. The last time he was this close to Peter, his eyes had been full of fear and glistened with tears. That had haunted Wade for the past week- but right now, Peter’s eyes were void of all of that. Yet again, Wade wanted to know what he was thinking.

“Yeah,” Peter said, quickly dodging his gaze away, “Okay.”

“Sweet,” Wade said, “hope you’re ready, Parker. Saving these grades will be a fuckin’ miracle.”

Wade had taken his time while walking back to class that day, which resulted in a very annoyed English teacher and a trip to the office to retrieve a late slip. Wade thinks his teacher misunderstood- he could not “wipe the smirk off his lips” because he thinks he’s “so smug”. He was smiling stupidly for another reason.

That night, the first night in an entire week, Wade slept just fine.


End file.
